Sunday, December 9, 2012

The Kinematic Equations

Narcissistic, quick-witted, proud, this is about you, this is a risk, and this is about the first time I feel free from writer's block for the first time in months and months and months. I'm free from the wrath of writer's block and it's like the veins I sliced open and bled words from got themselves selfishly bandaged up and I finally realized I was strong enough to rip off the bandages and bleed again and it isn't like the words are back and perfect, but they're back, the ideas (ce) are back and running and I know I'm eloquent enough to shape them and sculpt them like hello poetry and hello journal pages and hello blogger.

I'm working on telling the truth more -- "to begin with, I should tell the truth more" -- so today I want to write about you. Risky, I know, because you're bilingual and clever and too old for me (as per usual). But you're a misconception and a misrepresentation and I like figuring you out. You make for good material. I had you pinned as an atheist, but not the atheist you are. Your unorthodoxy intrigues me. I did not have you pinned as an artist. This is an honesty experiment.

Darling, I like pet names. I'll be somebody's arm candy because I haven't ever really thought I was built with enough sex appeal to be somebody's arm candy. And I think I want to know you because I didn't ever think I would. I didn't ever think I'd know about your siblings or think that you'd listen when I got my heart broken. The best part is that I can keep up with you, a truth we both admit, and we're more similar than we thought we were. You do clean up well.

I think I want to know you because you cannot be defined by any cookie cutter I've ever seen and you hate bad table manners and I have a thing for smoke and yes, this is about you, because I don't understand you and I'm trapped by your age and vulgarity and you understand my humor, so basically this is all a disaster waiting to happen. A game to see who runs faster (skis faster?).

But mostly I just want to thank you. I think watching you open up and proving that I shouldn't judge books by their covers reminded me that I'm full of books. I'm full of books! I'm full of books to write and it's cool that I cry when I read because passion is cool to you!

Anyway. I fear the oblivion you race against, and now you hold my secrets and I suppose I hold a secret or two of yours. I bet you count things like Connor does. Remind me to ask you that.

So this isn't even a love note, it's just this thing about you, because I think people are interesting. I think people sometimes have a skewed idea of who's going to hell and who's going to heaven. And you're a complex character. I like your unorthodoxy and your table manners and your youngest child mentality because I just don't have that. I like your OCD, because I don't have that. I like where you come from -- not just because I don't come from there, but also because it sounds lovely there.

All my love,

1 comment:

Kimberly Noelle said...

You read The Fault in Our Stars, didn't you? The pipe picture, "I fear oblivion."

It's a good one. I love it.